Despicable Christmas
by Ariels Lament
Summary: Tale of the Missing Scarf! Gru isn't pleased...


**A/N: Ahem...well. Mostly what I have to say is that **_**this**_** is what happens when one searches for crocheting patterns for striped scarves while stuck on three fanfic chapters (one of which held vague mention of presents), suffering insomnia for some two weeks and needing an excuse to procrastinate packing just a little bit longer. Don't ask me why I know this. Please. ^^;;**

**In any case, when this idea hit me, I thought I would die of squee if I didn't write it down, but I haven't had internet since I moved into my apartment, and only just managed to get to the library for some internet bizz that can't be done via my phone.**

**I'm still stuck on Ch. 2 of The In Betweens. Which is sad because it's probably the shortest of them all...but Ch. 5 is almost done. It's about fourtimes as long, too. Go figure.**

**Oh, and one last thing. Do me a favor, and make pretend that the dyed pink and gray scarf in the laundry basket DOES NOT EXIST! D: I know, I know...I love it, too. But...plot device. You know how it goes. -shrugs- Anywho, hope you enjoy! Yay sap! :)**

* * *

Christmas wasn't really Gru's holiday, cheery, bright, and happy as it was, but the girls had insisted, so he'd gone against his usual grain and decked the halls.

And the stairs. And the living room. And the kitchen. And, much to both his and Dr. Nefario's dismay, even the lab, a fact discovered several days previous when the three girls giggling madly behind them pointed to a sprig of mistletoe hanging overhead. It had caused a bit of a rift twixt himself and the scientist, only serving to darken the younger man's already bleak mood.

Tinsel was everywhere, and he'd long since given up wondering when the girls' and minions' 'decorating' had passed more into the realm of glorified mess making. It was already Christmas eve, though, so he didn't have to trip over loose garland or worry about Kyle getting hold of what amounted to the fifth tree they'd had already this season for too much longer.

The villain had never realized quite how stressful this holiday could truly be. For him, the shopping was almost nothing. While those holiday shoppers in the crowds and lines were certainly very rude, he was ruder, and with the aid of his trusty freeze ray and threatening disposition, it was only too easy for him to get what he wanted and leave. This year was slightly different, though, given that he now had three young daughters that fully expected the magic of the season to take place.

Yes, Margo had assured him early on that the other two hardly expected a Santa anymore, but since he was doing the whole thing anyways, Gru figured he ought as well do it properly. They would have their extra gifts under the tree, their hung stockings filled. If they opted to leave out milk and cookies, they would get their letter of thanks, signed Santa. The sudden pressure to make their first Christmas together as memorable as possible had struck him hard, and he felt his nerves thinning a bit more every day.

He'd taken the girls to pick out the tree—all five of them—and helped with the decorations. He'd even succumbed to their pleas to decorate the house with lights, a most daunting task considering the sheer mass of the place, not to mention the snow and ice. Being in the open meant he could not rely on any of his inventions or minions to assist him. More than one occasion had found Gru dangling from the perilously high roof—never had he been so happy to see Fred nearby—and, in the end, the project had been abandoned halfway through. There were only so many times a man could face certain death for the sake of some silly colored lightbulbs plastered to the outside of his house. Edith and Agnes had taken the news a bit harder than he'd hoped for, but with Margo's help and a round of hot chocolate, he was reassured that they still loved him regardless.

The ice skating had been a nightmare. For him anyways. Margo and Edith were pretty good, rushing off hand in hand as soon as they'd hit the ice, leaving Gru and Agnes behind. Gru held on to the wall with one hand and the little girl with his other, but soon enough, even the five year old was showing him up. Then the three had the idea to ween him from said wall. The ensuing events were something he'd rather not remember, but the limp had served as a painful reminder for days afterward.

All of these things he'd born without (much) complaint. In fact, Gru's bitter mood had nothing at all to do with the girls.

Maybe. He actually wasn't too sure.

For their sakes he hoped they hadn't been lying to him, but the look the three had shared when he'd questioned them didn't strike him as very promising. He'd tried to keep himself from ruining their holiday spirit, however, and refrained from hounding them despite his dismay. He just kept searching. If, in actuality, they were hiding it from him, it was bound to turn up. There were only so many places it could possibly be.

Skulking through the hallways, Gru reached up to the collar of his turtleneck. It was a habit he had acquired over the past two and a half weeks, and he frowned at the once again confirmed absence of his beloved scarf. It figured that once the weather was actually appropriate for it it would go missing. Not that he was terribly worried about the cold, but that scarf was one of the few things he'd received from his mother in his adult life, and so, by default, it was invaluable to him. For nigh thirty years he had owned it, and never had he been parted from it for so long. It was as though a chunk of him was missing, a fact shown by his cold demeanor and the way he had nearly turned the house upside down in search of the garment.

But two and a half weeks.

Gru heaved a despairing sigh just in time for the doorbell to heave him back from his thoughts.

Oh good. They were home.

As soon as the door opened, the villain was assaulted by a gust of snowy wind and the fervor of three cold little girls, arms laden with packages probably from their grandmother.

"Hey, hey, hey!" he groused after the giggling trio as they disappeared around the corner. "I t'ought we had a deal! Leave your shoes by de door!"

Of course his admonishment went unheeded. Gru huffed at the icy footprints left behind on the floor and, still scowling, turned to the remaining person on his doorstep.

"Hmph. What died een your cereal, 'uh?"

Gru's scowl deepened at her words. What exactly was so precious about that scarf again?

His mother raised a brow in amusement at his lack of response. "Eef you're really dat upset about eet, I should have made you another. Oh, and dis ees from de gorls." She shoved the box he hadn't really noticed her holding before now into his arms. "Dey asked dat I fix dis up for you."

He blinked, and his frown melted away. Turning the package about in his hands he replied, "I don't know what you are talking about. What is dis?"

She rolled her eyes and turned to leave. "Eez Christmas."

Touched, Gru stared down at the package. He hadn't expected anything from them in return, and he smiled softly at the thought.

"Merry Christmas, Son."

He looked up just in time to catch a glimpse of the genuine smile on her features before she headed back off to her car.

"Yeah...you too, Mom."

She probably hadn't heard him, but he was too preoccupied by the box in his hands to worry about it. He studied it on his way to the living room where the girls were, slipping on the slush they'd brought in with them and only just catching himself before he fell. Lucky for them he couldn't bring himself to be upset.

As expected, the girls were all three gathered around the tree, looking through the presents in excitement.

"Oh my gosh! Unicorn wrapping paper! Look!"

Gru had had to look everywhere for that. He was almost over the embarrassment of buying something so cutesy. Almost. But seeing Agnes' exhilaration, he couldn't help but think that made it all worth it.

"Look at the size of that one!"

And that...well that was something Edith would very likely make sure he regretted come tomorrow and the days after. He must not have been in his right mind when he got it for her.

Margo didn't speak, but she did gaze hopefully at one of the boxes with her name on it before shaking it ever so slightly in curiosity. She smiled knowingly and so did the new father at the sight.

Yes. That one was exactly what she hoped it was.

She looked up and spotted him in the doorway, a sheepish look overtaking her face at being caught. Then her eyes fell to the package in his hands, and her eyes widened slightly. She bit her lip and, grabbing her sisters' attention, nodded in his direction.

"Oh yeah!"

Before he knew it, three cheery smiles surrounded him.

"Open it! Open it!" Agnes jerked on Gru's pants leg gleefully as she chanted.

"What?" he replied, startled. "Eez not yet Christmas."

"Doesn't matter!" Edith bounced up and down eagerly. "We can't wait any longer!"

"Yeah, we've been waiting forever to give it to you." Even Margo insisted.

"Alright, alright. I'm opening eet."

Gru blinked when he saw what it was, unsure of what emotion he ought to feel first. Relief? Joy? Maybe a little angry? Narrowing his eyes slightly, he peaked over the edge of the box at his oldest.

"I _knew_ dat you were lying to me."

The brunette just stared back up apologetically, her arms behind her back, and shrugged.

Edith stuck out her lip and pulled on the rim of his sweater. "You're not looking at it!"

"Yeah, look at it!" the youngest mimicked, tugging on his pants again.

Eying the three in suspicion, he glanced back at his newly discovered scarf, throat tightening when he found what they were talking about. He didn't trust himself to speak, so he just stared.

The added designs were small, but the bright colors made them stand out nonetheless. Three little kittens were now embroidered near the end of his scarf, and if the drawings on his refrigerator were anything to judge by, each girl had designed her own.

"We wanted to do it ourselves, but Grandma wouldn't let us," the blonde spouted, still grinning madly. "So she told us to draw them and that she'd copy it."

"Yeah...mine took forever." Agnes looked to the ground, disheartened. "I kept messing up." Then she brightened and hopped up and down. "But I finally got it!"

He swallowed and looked the designs over again. It was obvious which one Agnes had drawn, aside from the fountain of black hair sprouting from one of the kittens' heads. To anyone else, it might not have resembled anything close to a kitten, but as far as the world's top super villain was concerned, there couldn't be a more perfect kitten in the world.

"We know it kinda ruins the whole 'villain' thing," Margo added timidly, and Gru smiled. The thought _had_ flickered somewhere in the back of his mind. "So we tried to keep it small."

He chuckled and looked back down. The two younger girls still watched him in expectant delight. The oldest, however, bit her lip in nervousness.

"Not at all," the man reassured her, throwing his sorely missed scarf about his neck. "I am _de_ number one super-villain in de world. I am _plenty_ evil enough to pull eet off."

Margo gave him an uncertain look, but his genuinely pleased grin seemed to do the trick, and she offered him a tentative one in return. Gru knelt down to embrace his daughters.

"T'ank you, gorls."

They stayed like that for a while. Then Edith broke the silence.

"Can we open a present now?"

Which, of course, only served to excite Agnes as well.

"Yay presents! Can we open one. Pretty please?"

Gru pulled back from the three. "What are you two talking about, eez not yet Christmas."

"Yeah, but you got to open yours."

He stared hard at his middle daughter who only grinned mischievously back.

"Oh, come on, Dad," Margo prodded further, in a voice just as hopeful as the other two. "Just one. Please?"

He cocked a brow at her. Then he sighed.

"Alright. But just one."

The three squealed happily and ran off to the tree. He noticed Edith reach for the one she had commented on earlier.

"Not dat one." Gru just barely managed to grab it from her and set it back. He wasn't sure he could handle her having that one tonight. The hooded girl pouted in response. "I get to pick."

He couldn't help but stroke the corner of his scarf fondly as he watched his girls make an utter disaster area of his living room.

Christmas really wasn't all that bad after all.

* * *

**A/N: I know... "Why must you talk so much?", right? But real quick...there's a line here: "Hmph. What died een your cereal, 'uh?" WTF? Right? The answer is I...don't know. -_-;; Cross between "Who peed in your cereal?" and "You look like you're best friend just died." maybe? -face/palm- I'll actually get sleep one of these days. Hopefully...**


End file.
